Black Christmas
by CallingJuon
Summary: Today is Christmas, and right now, in Hong Kong. From atop the International Commerce Centre, Vincent looked down and watched the humans celebrate this occasion. They seemed like tiny ants, pixels even. So insignificant looking; His people. He had seen almost the exact same view 71 years ago on the very same day. A day he called "Black Christmas" ((WWII: The Battle of Hong Kong))


It was Christmas. And everywhere, people all around the world were celebrating this occasion.  
Today, we are in Hong Kong. From atop the International Commerce Centre, in a viewing chair, Vincent looked down and watched the humans interact. They seemed like tiny ants, pixels even. So insignificant and tiny.  
His people.  
He had seen almost the exact same view 71 years ago. On that very same day. A day he called "Black Christmas".

* * *

/le flashback  
The shaggy-blond haired man stood from a distance as he watched the teenager set off his signature item, firecrackers. But today, the Asian boy didn't seem to have as much vigor as he normally had when he got to play with them. (He knows.) Arthur thought sourly as he inhaled the last of his cigar and tossed it to the ground. "Vincent," The Englishman called. Vincent recognized the all too familiar voice and his head did an immediate 180 in the man's direction. "Arthur..!?" Wasn't he supposed to be in Malaysia or Singapore? "Once you're done with those firecrackers, come inside and see me please." He advised with a small smile. An sickeningly sweet smile. Vincent winced inwardly. The young nation slowly deduced that Arthur was giving him an order and reluctantly obeyed. The boy knew what was coming; And after a few, seemingly long moments of silence, nodded his head, his eyes to the floor.

After a few more minutes of setting off firecrackers, Vincent grew restless. The firecrackers didn't go off as splendidly as they usually did. Today's batch was...dull. But he didn't want to go inside, he didn't want to hear anything. He wanted to hide from everything. To disappear. But he knew he couldn't. Not unless some miracle earthquake just so happened to sink the territories of Hong Kong. (No use prolonging it further. It won't do any good anyway..) The young teenager slowly exhaled emptily and reluctantly headed into the hotel. His footsteps echoed through the large lobby, making the him feel even more small.

The clink of a spoon against a teacup. "Are you prepared to follow instructions, Vincent?"  
The nervous shuffling of feet. "... Yes sir."  
"... You are to hand over the three destroyers to me. I need them placed..._elsewhere_." His thick English accent pierced the room. It was so insincere. So apathetic. It was so painful to hear.  
Hands balled into fists, knuckles turned white. Vincent had had enough. "You can't do that!" A sudden step forward. The Hong Konger's accent revealing itself clearly. "You _know_ we already lack adequate air defense, now you want to take away perhaps our _only chance_ of surviving by taking away, our only form of naval-"  
The crashing of a teacup against the floor "**Don't you argue with me! You are to listen to your superior, take your orders and follow them! Am I understood?!**" Arthur bellowed, filling the entire floor with an air of fury and pure outrage. It sent chills of fear up the boy's spine.  
A step backwards, followed by a heavy gulp. ". . . ...Yes, _sir Arthur._" He spat.  
A bow and a few splashes of salty water making contact with the marble floor before leaving the battlefield with a feeling of defeat, but still in the grip of the animal fury of conflict.

He ran out of the hotel as fast as his legs could possibly carry him. Tears continued to fall, but not a sound was uttered. After a few minutes of aimless sprinting, Vincent turned into a dark alleyway and dropped to his knees. He stared at his hands, they were shaking uncontrollably and he laughed in irony. The laugh turned into a choke, a choke into a whimper, a whimper into a small sob, a small sob into a bawl. A bawl, a cry. A cry of pure despair and anxiety. It resounded through the entirety of Kowloon Walled City.

It was his turn.

* * *

Orders being yelled out.  
Run.  
Gunshots.  
Run.  
New Territories' downfall.  
...Run.  
Kowloon Walled City's downfall.  
...Run.  
Defense line broken.  
Ngh...Run-  
Nowhere left to run to.

"What are we to do, sir?" The teenager finally managed shakily, his voice breaking mid-sentence. He was absolutely terrified. He looked up to the man whom Britain had entrusted him to. His entire being, to this man named Mark Aitchison Young.

"I don't know lad, I don't know..."

* * *

The Peninsula Hotel.  
Mark Aitchison Young and the other British colonial officials surrendered in person. Surrendered the entirety of Hong Kong to the Japanese. The boy sat outside on the turret as the officials and generals discussed their paperwork and political things inside the grand room of the six-star hotel. Vincent's body was ridden with open wounds, none of them treated. He only knew that it was a matter of time before they got..infected. The wounds would eat away at his flesh, slowly and painfully. Burn him inside out. Until the war was over.

Vincent took in the scenery that lay before his eyes. It was a beautiful evening. The sun had just set, lamp posts illuminated the sidewalks. The lusty and bloodthirsty looks on the Japanese soldiers as they waited impatiently for their commanders to be done with, so that they could begin to rape the women and pillage the homes of his people. His people who had so bravely stepped forward and rebelled were rounded up in the main plaza, waiting for their deaths. Any that trespassed or resisted, was to be tortured to death. Humans. They were amazing creatures, but today, they looked tiny and insignificant. Everyone looked so pitiful. They couldn't do anything, they didn't dare to. The boy wondered with the last of his hope, if he tried to resist, would they respond in turn? No, how could he even think of such things.

A rather important-looking officer emerged from the meeting room and shouted orders to his inferiors in their native language. One man marched over to the nation's side, a revolver in hand, his finger wrapped around the trigger and shot him an evil grin before "Bang!". The gunshot echoed down the building, into the main plaza. And all hell broke loose. Screams of utter terror came from all directions. Within minutes, large piles of bodies lay motionless in the main plaza. Females were stripped and raped in the middle of the streets, their lovers watching in pure agony and devastation as they took their last breaths. The pregnant had their stomachs sliced open, the fetuses were thrown into the air and pierced with the soldiers' bayonets; Most of the mourning mothers died minutes later from either pain or blood loss. Children attempted to flee, only to be grabbed by their hair and dragged back. The insane laughs of soldiers as they raised their weapons and stabbed their victims, over and over again. Hong Kong watched with lifeless eyes as he dragged his heavy feet to the end of the turret, leaned over the railing and...

* * *

/end flashback

"**MERRY CHRISTMAS!**" blared through the speakers as the other nations began to cheer happily and raise their drinks into the air. Vincent grudgingly opened his eyes and had to blink a few times to get adjusted to the bright lights. (Great, just how many fireworks did I miss?) He whined unpleasantly to himself as he slowly got to his feet. How embarrassing. It was he that offered to host the Christmas party this year, and he fell asleep? How shameful.

It was just then that Taiwan bounced over with a happy smile. "Have a good sleep?" Vincent merely responded with a low "Mmn.." Meaning no. "Eiii... You don't look too good. Too much to drink perhaps?" The boisterous girl winked. "Blame that man for giving him such bad alcohol tolerance aru." The eldest nation nagged as he walked over with a displeased expression etched onto his face. "I can hold my liquor perfectly fine, thank you very much Yao." The Englishman retorted with a small scowl.

"Will you look at tha' two o' them, eh mate?", Australia jeered as he poked Japan's arm with his elbow. "As lively as ever, I see." The usually dull man chipped in with a small smile. "Dudes! So this was what's happening? Why wasn't I invited?" America exclaimed as he stepped in between the two nations and put an arm around the both of them. Earning two, unhappy groans. "Alfred, please. We can all hear you in this claustrophobic room. You needn't shout into my ear." Arthur moaned painfully. Vincent frowned and folded his arms in front of his chest. "I take offense to that you know." "Do not make fun of his culture aru..!" China yelled with his hands on his hips. Although honestly he should speak for himself."I didn't mean to offend him, I simply.." "Well you should watch your speech more..." "Speak for yourself..!" "HAHAHA. NICE FIGHT. Oh yeah..! I'm starving! What else.."

Vincent slowly stepped away from the commotion and simply observed for a good long while. ". . . ...It's better like this, don't you agree?" Macau chirped as he ambled his way over to stand next to his brother. Vincent smiled and nodded in agreement. "Yes it is. Much better." They didn't have to exchange words further to know what the other was thinking about.

"Ah Long?" ... "Hm?" ... "...Merry Christmas."

...

"Merry Christmas to you too."

* * *

/

Just how depressing was that? This was originally supposed to be uploaded on Christmas, because of the irony of it all but I decided to abandon it. Boring weekends can to miracles to a writer's block!

This is my first fanfiction. Don't hate me.

Any sort of constructive criticism is greatly appreciated.

Ciao for now!


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